She turned up the heater and fought with the windshield defogger as the car began its climb up the mountain. Dirty snow lined the black asphalt that cut a snaking path upward. Halfway up, tiny snowflakes began to hit the windshield and the wipers swiped them away with a noisy screech. The grating noise reminded her that she needed to get the twenty-year-old car in for a service soon. But that would require leaving home. She didn’t leave home.
Unless it was for a quest to save two people who were already dead.
The absurdity of it hit her square in the chest when she arrived at the ski resort parking lot. On the drive up the mountain, snow-laden Douglas firs had blocked her view skyward. Not now, though. Not in the resort parking lot. The vista beyond the resort was supposed to be breathtaking. But not in the way Holly felt it. The mountain loomed, like a giant white monster about to devour the building and everyone in it.
She’d already been swallowed by a mountain once.
Sucking in a shaky breath, she counted to five and let it out in a huge huff.
But her brain was a frozen vault that’d trapped snapshots of her nightmare, and when she wasn’t vigilant, they’d haunt her. They came back now. Ice. Blood. Bodies. Ten images. Twenty. Flickering like a faulty video.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she clenched her fists, plonked her head on the steering wheel, and rode out the onslaught. Her therapist had taught her this technique. Instead of fighting the barrage, she’d go with it. Eventually the images would stop and she’d still be there and nothing would have changed.
Facing her fear. That’s what Dr. Andrews had call it.
Today’s fear was dominating the windshield: the snow-covered mountain.
Her windows had completely fogged out her view by the time she peeled her fingers off the steering wheel. “I can do this. I am Amber Hope, and I can do this!”
Mentally repeating the mantra, she opened the door and stepped from the car. Four layers of clothing did little to stop the frigid air from seeping into her bones. It was like liquid mercury, leaching in, aching. Especially the bones she’d broken. They seemed to have their own gauges for cold and warm.
Furious that she hadn’t thought to bring gloves, she tucked her hands into her pockets, put her head down, and aimed for the resort’s stone steps. Halfway across the asphalt, her feet slipped on ice, and she only just managed to stay upright. With her hands out sideways, she made it unscathed, and at the top of the steps she pushed through the door.
She entered a large wood-lined room with a high-vaulted cedar ceiling. A fireplace, nestled into an enormous hexagonal-shaped stone chimney, was the center of the room. In front of the fire, a man and a woman, occupying two overstuffed chairs, glanced her way, but only fleetingly before turning their attention back to the fire. Holly welcomed the warmth, yet her fingers maintained a painful throb that she attempted to massage away.
As she rubbed life back into her hands, she fought the anxiety mushrooming in her brain and walked toward the reception desk that spread the length of the far wall.
The young woman beamed at her. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Altitude, heaven at the top of the world.” Her eyes bounced to the burn scar on Holly’s cheek and her jaw dropped a fraction.
Holly should have expected this, but she’d been so worried about the mountain, she hadn’t given any thought to her scar. A chunk of her resolve snapped off at the woman’s reaction. It was a jolt. It always was. It was like her brain had her remembering what she used to look like, and then a complete stranger would bring that reality crashing into focus.
Holly flicked her hair forward, attempting to dislodge the woman’s lingering gaze. “I’m Amber Hope. I’m checking in for two nights.”
“Okay, let me get your paperwork.” When she strolled to a table at the back, Holly studied the giant schematic that detailed the mountain, resort, and facilities that adorned the wall behind her. According to the diagram, Sienna Mountain, where Altitude Lodge was situated, had a highest peak of just nine thousand three hundred feet. The mountain where she’d lost Milton was nearly thirteen thousand feet high.
She pictured the mountain, with its dueling monoliths and shark fin peak, and a shudder rumbled through her. The temptation to turn around and run was crippling. She gripped the counter instead, determined not to give that thought any more attention.
“Oh, Miss Hope, you’re going to be so happy.” The young lady’s voice lured Holly away from the black hole she’d tumbled into. “You’re staying in the best chalet on the mountain.” She gazed at Amber with a look of expectation.
“Thank you.”
“Have you been here before?”
She shook her head. “First time.”
“Wonderful. And I see you’ve also booked for ski lessons.” She rummaged behind the counter, then placed a large white envelope on the counter. “Here’s your welcome pack that’ll explain everything.” The woman placed a map on the counter and drew a line from the admin building to Amber’s private chalet and explained where to park. Using her pen, she pointed out other significant aspects of the resort.
“Thank you.” Holly clutched the envelope to her chest.
“You’re welcome. If you need anything once you get to your chalet, you can call me by dialing number nine on your phone.”
“Okay, thanks.” Holly turned and braced for the cold as she stepped from the building. Her teeth were chattering by the time she slipped back behind the steering wheel. Her mother’s old car coughed to life, and she followed the map to her chalet.
Five minutes later she parked in her designated space and, leaving all her luggage for later, she went to investigate her accommodation.
As they had offered when she’d made the reservation, the fire had already been ignited, and the flames spilled warmth and light into the cabin. Holly drifted from room to room like she’d fallen into a fairy-tale. Whoever had decorated the chalet had an obsessive attention to detail and, unlike her home, trinkets and art adorned nearly every surface. It was quaint, tasteful, and perfectly suited the alpine setting. Her bedroom was located up a narrow set of stairs, in an open-air loft that was positioned over the lounge. She could look over the balcony to the area below, where heat from the fireplace radiated upward.
After retrieving her suitcase and unpacking her things, and sipping a glass of wine by the fire to settle her nerves, she pulled on her gym shoes, dressed in her four layers of clothing, and braced to step back outside.
A brilliant spectrum of citrus colors bounced off the low-lying clouds, and the setting sun had the sky looking like it was on fire. Holly locked the door, shoved her hands in her pockets, and stepped onto the snow. The white powder crunched beneath her feet as she made her way toward the village center.
When she arrived at the main building, the subzero temperature had her exhaling into the frigid air and pushing through the glass door without any hesitation. Two things hit her like slaps to the face: the warmth, and the abundance of people inside. Dozens of them. She’d expected to see people, but never this many.
The temptation to flee was so strong, an instant headache nipped behind her eyes. She stepped back and bumped right into someone. “Sorry.” Gasping, she spun around and her eyes met a broad chest. She looked up.
The man was tall and beautiful, and he radiated youth and life and everything she didn’t. His eyes leapt to her scar and away again in a nanosecond. “It’s okay.” He patted her shoulder, moved around her, and walked away.
Her feet were frozen. Her brain was too.
The reality of her mission sank in. She was in a room full of strangers. Strangers who were likely to stare at her wounds with a variety of reactions. Living like a recluse had done two things: limited her exposure to strangers and amplified her response to their reactions.
But if she was going to do this, really truly do this mission to save Dorothy and bring closure to those people
in the ice, then she needed to forget about her stupid embarrassment.
With hands curled into fists, she urged her brain to come to a conclusion.
Realizing that people were starting to look at her standing frozen in the doorway, she gulped down the indecision along with a bucketload of dread, unfurled her fists, and forced her feet to move.
To her right was a large store that sold clothing and equipment. A general store was beside that, and an equipment rental place was next. Two restaurants and a bar made up the left-hand side of the building. The bulk of the crowd noise was coming from those areas.
Centered in the middle of it all was a circular information desk with three staff members standing behind it. She headed that way. On her approach she adjusted her hair over her cheek and tilted her face so it stayed there.
“Hello, can I help you?” The young lady who spoke had long blond plaits that fell from her fluffy pink beanie. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed, and she was stunning enough to be the January model in an annual ski-bunny calendar. Holly couldn’t remember ever meeting a woman so beautiful.
“Oh, um, hi,” she stuttered. “Um, my name is Amber Hope, and I have lessons booked for tomorrow.”
“Oh, hi, Amber. I’m Kelli. I’m your instructor. It’s so nice to meet you.” Kelli offered her hand, and when Amber shook it, the woman’s grin made her model looks legendary. “Follow me. We’ll get your gear sorted.”
Together they walked toward the equipment rental shop. “So this’s your first time here? You’re going to love it. We’ve had some fabulous snow over the last three days, so you have perfect conditions.” Kelli carried on talking until they reached a rack of padded jackets that lined the wall. “You need all the equipment, right?” She pulled a red jacket off a hanger.
“Yes, I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, that’s a nasty scar on your cheek. How’d you get that?”
Kelli’s brazenness punched the wind out of Amber. No stranger had ever been so direct before. Her hand automatically went up to the raised lumps lining her cheek. “I—um, had an accident a few years ago.”
“Wow, you poor thing. Must’ve hurt like hell.”
Amber nodded. However, ironically, it’d barely hurt. Not compared to her other injuries anyway. She could vividly recall the moment the red hot metal had hit her cheek. The chunk from the wreckage was on her flesh for just seconds, yet it’d been long enough to cause third-degree burns that’d killed her nerve endings in a flash.
Kelli handed Amber a jacket and a pair of padded pants. “These will fit; try them on if you like.” She led the way to the change room, chatting nonstop about anything that popped into her brain.
Once the clothing was sorted they moved to the equipment rental. “Have you skied before?” Kelli flicked her right braid over her shoulder.
“Yes, but only a few times, and it was a few years ago.”
“Alrighty, well, I’ll have you back up to speed before the weekend’s over.”
Amber didn’t hold the same optimism. Especially since she couldn’t shake the sense of dread snaking into her thoughts.
Fifty minutes after walking into the building, Amber had her clothing and ski equipment organized, and Kelli hadn’t stop yakking the whole time. But after the initial bewilderment, Amber had found the young woman’s flippancy refreshing. It’d been a long time since she’d had idle chitchat with someone face-to-face. Way too long.
Amber put her gear in a locker but kept her clothing with her. She shoved on her new gloves and beanie.
“Right,” Kelli said once they were finished. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning at nine. Does that work?”
“Sounds good.”
“Excellent. And don’t forget sunscreen. You can get pretty burnt up here. Oh,” she giggled. “Not as bad as that, of course.” She bulged her eyes at Amber’s cheek.
Amber tensed at the callous comment, but as she studied Kelli’s face she realized that she’d meant no malice whatsoever. Kelli simply spoke her mind without any thought to the consequences.
It was going to be an interesting weekend.
Amber returned to her chalet and heated up one of the precooked meals she’d brought with her. Later, after two glasses of wine, she crawled into bed, and the crackle and pop of the fire below lulled her to sleep with a promise of peaceful dreams.
She woke the next morning with two burning questions frying her brain: the first asked if finding those bodies in the ice really was her destiny, and the second questioned if she could actually go through with her crazy mission.
They were stupid questions, really. Questions she couldn’t answer.
But as she rolled out of bed and into a hot shower, she realized she could answer one of them. It was just going to take everything she had to go through with it.
After a quick breakfast, she donned her ski clothing and walked out her door. As she crossed the distance from her chalet to the village center, a line of children skied past, following a young man who sashayed effortlessly from side to side. The kids couldn’t be any older than ten, yet they handled the slope like experts.
The warmth of the main building was almost suffocating. She zipped open her jacket and pulled off her beanie and gloves as she strolled toward the information counter. Kelli popped up from behind the desk, saw Amber, and smiled. Kelli’s long hair fell in a blond cascade over her shoulders and back, and somehow she looked even more beautiful than she had yesterday.
“Hey, you’re here. Glad I didn’t scare you off with all my jabbering. You’ll have to get used to it. My dad calls it ‘verbal diarrhea.’ But what would he know?” She giggled. “Hey, Erik, here’s the girl I was telling you about.” She tapped the shoulder of the man behind her, and when he spun toward them, Amber was flustered beyond blinking. Erik looked like he’d stepped from the set of an action movie. Chiseled jaw, molasses eyes, perfect three-day growth, hair that flicked in all the right directions. “Check out her scar.” Kelli’s statement shattered Amber’s veneer and her legs teetered.
“Show him, Amber,” she insisted. “He didn’t believe me.”
In a stiff reluctant movement, she tilted her head to the model-like couple.
He whistled. “Holy shit, that’s way worse than mine.” Erik seemed impressed, thrusting Amber into whole new territory.
“I told you.” She turned to Amber. “Erik’s got a scar on his ass. He likes to show it off.”
“Only to sweet cakes like you.” He beamed a brilliant smile at Kelli.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kelli rolled her eyes and came out from behind the counter. “Come on, let’s get your gear and go have some fun.” She reached for Amber’s arm, leaving her no time to analyze what’d just happened. Kelli hugged her so close their hips bounced together as she led Amber to her locker. “Let’s get you changed and go hit the snow.”
She talked nonstop about all sorts of trivial things, like how good the coffee was here compared to the resort she’d worked at in New Zealand, and how bloated her mother’s ankles were now that she’d given up tennis. Amber had no hope of navigating Kelli’s conversational direction.
Amber’s boots were firm, mid-shin high, and had her leaning at such an awkward angle that when she tried to stand she reached to Kelli for support. That simple move had a long-forgotten memory fluttering into her mind: a happier time, when Milton was helping her into ski boots. They’d laughed themselves silly as they’d clomped together, hand-in-hand toward the snow.
“Feels weird, huh?” Kelli plucked Amber from her rare cheerful recollection. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. It’s designed to propel you forward. Okay, put your beanie on, grab your poles, and let’s go.”
Kelli clutched both their skis and walked ahead in her boots with ease. Amber, however, stomped like she was wearing four-gallon drums that’d been set with concrete. Once on the snow,
Kelli led her to a fenced-off area to the side of the central complex. Amber was already exhausted by the time she got there. It was going to require some serious mental focus to get her body through this. She visualized Dorothy and decided that the elderly woman’s mournful image would be the inspiration to get her through. She just hoped like hell she wouldn’t let her down.
The next couple of hours were consumed by Kelli demonstrating the basics. Clipping in and out of her skis. How to go. Stop. Turn. Walking sideways up a hill. And, of course, how to get up when she fell over. Which she had no doubt she’d do.
“Ready to give it a try?”
“Oh.” Kelli had caught her off guard. The first rock climbing lesson she’d had with Oliver had been all theory, and Amber had assumed this would be the same. “Do you think I’m ready?”
“Of course, you’re a natural.” Now she knew Kelli was lying. “Come on.”
Kelli led the way, gliding her skis across the snow with ease. Amber had no hope of speeding up; she was too busy concentrating on keeping upright. Kelli chitchatted the whole time she led her toward the chairlift, and Amber learned that Kelli’s childhood home was in San Diego. That she ran away from home at seventeen and it’d been the best and worst decision she’d ever made. And that she’d lost her virginity in a cemetery. When she saw Amber’s jaw-dropping reaction to that titbit, Kelli doubled over laughing. “I love telling that story. It’s true by the way.”
Amber had no doubt.
She was certain they were going to ski right on past the lift, until Kelli stepped in line with all the other skiers.
“Give me your poles.” Kelli indicated for Amber to slip in beside her.
Amber’s heart thumped in her neck as she handed over the sticks. She wasn’t ready. But then people fell in behind them, capturing Amber in the middle of the crowd, and there was no backing out, not even if she wanted to.
Kelli seemed to know everyone, and not just the staff. The people in front. The people behind. Everyone was laughing, having fun. “Show them your scar,” Kelli said, grinning at her.
Out of Mind Page 7
